Many years ago, I had two cats who were sisters from the same litter: Miles and Kaylynn.

After a move to a new city, I dropped them off for their shots and warned the people at the vet’s office that Miles was protective over Kaylynn and not to have them out at the same time, or she would probably attack them for touching her sister.

When I came to pick them up, I was confronted by a very upset vet tech and the vet.

Vet: “Your cat is vicious and will need to wear a muzzle and be sedated if she is allowed back here.”

The tech held out her arm which had multiple bloody scratches.

Tech: “She attacked me and bit the vet twice!”

Me: “You mean Miles? The short hair? Was this during a shot?”

Vet: “We had already finished with her, and when we took the other one out and started to give her a shot, she growled and attacked us!”

Me: “I did tell you not to have them out at the same time because Miles is protective of her sister. If she attacked you, that was your fault.”

Tech: “That animal is evil, and I refuse to work on her again.”

Vet: “We’ve never had issues with animals from the same house out together before. There’s something wrong with your cat, and I don’t know that she’ll be allowed to return.”

Me: “That’s fine; I have no intention of bringing either of them back here when you can’t listen to simple instructions and blame the cat for something you were informed would happen.”

The vet and tech kept insisting there was something wrong with my cat, all because she was her sister’s protector. I never took either one of them back there, and I eventually found a different vet that both girls adored. None of the techs ever had a bad thing to say about either cat at the new place, probably because they did as I warned them and never tried to treat Kaylynn when Miles was outside her carrier.

There are quite a few Tex-Mex takeout places run by Asians in my part of the world. I witness this exchange while waiting for my food.

Customer: “Can I get General Tso Chicken?”

Cashier: “Sir, we are not a Chinese food takeout. We sell Tex-Mex food.” 

Customer: “Can I get the chicken with broccoli instead, then?”

Cashier: “Sir, we only serve what’s on this menu.”

The customer takes a look at the menu for the first time, and then he looks at the Asian cashier.

Customer: “How comes y’all don’t have Chinese food here?”

I’ve worked in an ISP call center before, and even though I was in billing, I heard horror stories from the techs when we spent time complaining on our smoke breaks. As a result (and I’m fairly technically inclined to begin with), every time I have any sort of connectivity issue, I write down a detailed log of every single troubleshooting step I take BEFORE even calling. I also know that the only thing worse than a neophyte is someone who “thinks” that they know about any of this stuff.

Right now, I’m unfortunately stuck with the half of a broadband duopoly that is slightly less awful than the only other one that can provide service.

My last two times dealing with their support staff were less than helpful.

The first time, I start reading off my list of things that I’ve already attempted, and the tech minion interrupts me with:

Tech Support #1: “Go to [blah blah blah] [Windows system setting].”

Me: “The only computers connected here run Linux.”

Tech Support #1: “You have to go to [Windows setting].”

Me: “That’s impossible. There are no Windows machines here, and the traceroute I ran shows the connection dropping somewhere outside the local network.”

Tech Support #1: “Go into [Windows setting]…”

Me: *Lying* “Yeah, yeah.”

I pretend that I do everything they ask, and only then does it get escalated to someone competent who actually admits that there’s an outage.

The most recent time, I’m interrupted once again when going through the list of things that I have already done.

Tech Support #2: “Do you have another cable that you can use?”

Me: “I already checked to make sure both ends are plugged in; I’ve knocked out cables before.”

Tech Support #2: “You really need to try it with a different cable.”

Me: “Look, I know that you need to make sure that the thing is plugged in. I checked both ends, and I do have a cable tester. It’s a known-good part.”

Tech Support #2: “We can’t proceed until you use a different cable.”

Me: *Lying again* “There, new cable. Still nothing.”

They continued to interrupt when I went off the list of things that I had already done. My pings stopped at the router, a fact that they seemed to ignore, even after a factory reset that wiped all of my settings. After half an hour, they finally sent someone to replace the piece of crap that I was forced to rent because their service is designed to only work with their crap.

What I wouldn’t give for actual choice in terms of connectivity, where maybe I could deal with people more capable than an Eliza bot.

I call to make an eye appointment for my husband and myself at a new practice.

Receptionist #1: “Okay, and his name?”

Me: “Jonathan. J-O-N—”

Receptionist #1: “Okay. And his last name?”

Me: “[Last Name].”

Our last name is not common and definitely not American. I often have to spell it for people, so I automatically give the first three letters before she cuts me off to ask for the rest of his information.

Receptionist #1: “Okay, you’re set for Friday at 3:00 and 3:30. See you soon!”

Friday arrives and we approach check-in. The receptionist cannot find our information.

Receptionist #1: “Are you sure it was here?”

Me: “Yes. The phone number here is [number I called], right?”

Receptionist #1: “Yes.”

Me: “Okay, it’s in my call log that I called here on—”

Receptionist #1: “I’m sorry, you’re not in our system.”

Husband: “How can that be? We have the confirmation email. ‘Dear Mr. [Last Name]…’”

Receptionist #2: “What’s wrong?”

Receptionist #1: “They said they made an appointment, but it isn’t here.”

Receptionist #2: “Can I see your ID and insurance?”

My husband hands over his cards.

Receptionist #2: “Oh, here. See, whoever set this up in the system spelled it wrong. In here it’s ‘JAHNOTHON’ [Last Name].”

Receptionist #1: “Oh. Yeah, when you sign up, your information has to match your ID.”

Husband: “We did this over the… Oh.”

Receptionist #2: “When was this?”

Me: *Holding out my phone* “I didn’t get their name.”

Receptionist #1: *Blushing* “Oh. Well—”

Receptionist #2: “You’re good to go. Thank you.”

Receptionist #1: *Quietly* “He could have spelled it instead of assuming I would spell it that way.”

I’m working in a laundromat. A middle-aged couple comes in with a large blanket. I watch the wife load the blanket into a dryer, and then the husband comes to the counter. 

Husband: “I want to wash my blanket, but I’m not sure how to do it.” 

Since the wife has put the blanket in the dryer, I assume they are just drying it (not an uncommon thing to do), so I double-check and ask: 

Me: “Did you mean wash and dry the blanket?” 

Husband: “Yes.”

Me: “You’ve got the blanket in a dryer. You’ll have to move it to a washing machine to wash it.”

Husband: “It is in a washing machine.”

Me: “It’s in a dryer.”

Husband: “My wife has been here once before, so she knows what she’s doing, and she said that it is a washer.”

Me: “No, it’s a dryer. The washers are against the other wall.”

Husband: “You must be mistaken.”

Me: “Since I work here, I’m actually not mistaken.”

Husband: “You’re young and you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Me: “Again, since I work here, I actually do know what I’m talking about, regardless of my age.” 

I finally had to get another customer who’d also come to the counter to confirm what I was saying and point out the washers on the one side of the building.

The man just grumbled and walked off.